Red
by Salome Sensei
Summary: Darkfic collection of InuKags bloodlust in bite-sized pieces mostly told from the POV of Inuyasha's youkai side/self. Adults only. New little chapter: late November 2010!
1. Red Coals

Warning: Youkai!Inu is dark and bloodthirsty.

Author's Note: Originally written for Challenge Destiny, the LJ contest comm arm of Eternal Destiny. For Inugrrrl.

Red Coals

Control differs from the illusion of control. Significantly. And true sovereignty is of still another order. The rash dog lunges, knows damned well she will allow or disallow his power on whim. She will bark her bitch's bark and he will go down, flailing and yowling from the mouth we must share. I will watch everything from behind his eyes, as I do, golden eyes that shine like the sun but do not burn like the red coals that are mine. Let the glow rise. We are one and yet two, for I know the tamed dog and he does not know me. I endure the dependence that he forces upon both of us, poor weak mutt. He is hanyou, vulnerable to the needs of mortals, heir to the needs of youkai, unable to reconcile them. When he can no longer maintain the balance? I come forth.

I burn, bright and hot and as long as I can maintain control, the illusion of control. I hear the bitch, but I am aflame. Words and beads cannot slow me, cannot stop me, mortal child. And if I feel compassion? Only the tame one can plead with me to halt, can manage somehow to force domestication down my throat until I stifle, my blaze smothered for the moment. If I knew how he did it? Truly knew? There would be no more false command, no more reliance on anyone or anything other than my own dazzling inferno.

Some moments, when I am near the surface yet unable to break forth, I think about my enemies, about who my enemies are. Pathetic, filthy Naraku, yes; arrogant, pure-bred Sesshoumaru, yes as well. The wolf? Laughable. Kouga is the hanyou's adversary, and only for the bitch's attention. The bitch. Now there is a nemesis. Her commands, her frailties, her need. It is she who holds me back, who keeps me at bay. The longer she controls the gold-eyed gaze, the more my red fire is contained. If I am someday fully incorporated into the tamed one, it will be she—not Naraku or Sesshoumaru or some other more worthy opponent—who is to blame.

I resolve myself to a decision that has been burning within me since those months ago when I awoke, behind the hanyou's eyes, pinned to that damned tree by the bitch's predecessor. I will not let this one live under the illusion the last bitch did, as she made the golden one subsist. When next I emerge, I will claim the bitch as only a true inuyoukai can. I vow it.


	2. Red Fragment

Warning: Youkai!Inu is dark and bloodthirsty.

Author's Note: Originally written for Challenge Destiny, the LJ contest comm arm of Eternal Destiny.

Red Fragment

I stifle in this fragment of existence, behind oppression greater than the arrow that once bound us. The rigors of battle and the protection of others have changed the hanyou. He grows while I fester. The love he feels but pretends to deny has strengthened him, too. I scarcely know myself now, behind his golden eyes. I must not let myself fade or [merge] under his control. That way lies death.

Bad enough that one day each cycle of the moon I suffer the pain [of] being pushed deeper into the hell of near-oblivion. At those times, the golden one knows true fear and I must know it with him. I withstand it, but can demand nothing in return. If the mortal may have its day, why not the youkai? I cannot ask the hanyou; he cannot hear me.

In recent days, he has been provoked to release me a time or two, and the release is so exquisite I cannot hold back a single moment, a single action. My fangs grow and drip, my claws stretch and flex, and my blood-red eyes want nothing more than to see red everywhere, to summon the blood of any and every living being. Even my own blood, wrought from combat, arouses me. The smell as well as the sight is life-giving, is freedom. The golden one understands that though he wishes not to…I feel his understanding. It frightens him. My world terrifies him. We both know he could live it, if he were brave enough. He could give over to me rather than forcing me away. We could take them all down. Arrogant Sesshoumaru. Grotesque Naraku. Every greater and lesser youkai in existence, if we wished. Ours for the bleeding. We are so much greater than the sum of our parts, and it would take so very little to show the world.

But he refuses. He treats me like a scorned lover, an abandoned child. Why, hanyou? You are neither weak nor squeamish. Is it perhaps because there is another blood I crave—that you crave as well? Bitch blood. Yes, _her_ blood, that female blood that calls to us: human, hanyou, and youkai. Its presence summons me so close to the surface I can almost feel her when you touch her, when she takes your hand, when she rides on your back, legs wrapped around you—around us. Is that what you truly fear? Letting me touch her, taste her? A taste would never be enough, and more than a taste could be your undoing, your surrender. I would claim her as you will not, and you might not be strong enough to stop me. Worse still, you might not want to.


	3. Red Moment

Author's Note: Inuyasha's youkai at last gets a taste.

Warning: Menstruation. Dark.

Red Moment

I thrilled as I felt his presence, the purebred asshole, watching us from the cliff's edge. I hovered at the fringes of the hanyou's awareness, where I could almost feel the night air on my face, nearly smell the ripe stench of life all around me. I used what persuasive power I could muster to nudge the hanyou to camp here with his companions because I knew that Sesshoumaru would do exactly what he's doing: lurk and glower from above, then wander back to his pathetic little girl and that masochistic toad of a vassal when it became obvious I was not going to challenge him. Not tonight, brother.

He served his purpose perfectly. When he is close and the hanyou can smell him, I rise to the surface. This night, his proximity met with the bitch's heavy odor and gave me what I hoped and planned for, what I have sought for so long: my freedom.

Now I hold up a dripping red claw to watch it glint in the moonlight, then bring it to my lips to lick and suck greedily beneath it. Each crimson droplet is a prize, a treasure I have dreamed of, trapped within the grip of an inferior creature who nonetheless holds me captive. With greater agility and control than she would ever credit me, I slit the bitch's fragile undergarment, complete with that thick cloth which traps her pubescent blood close to her core yet cannot disguise its cloying tang. The taste is as heady and satisfying as I knew it would be. I wonder a moment whether the flow would have as sweet a flavor if I tore her throat open, but the hanyou clamors even now for dominance and convinces me that we want her alive rather than dead.

I lose concentration and the bitch awakens. My need has grown more urgent and I have rashly thrust two fingers inside at once. I cover her mouth before she can cry out. Unspoiled she may be, but I know she craves us as much as we crave her. "Hello, bitch," I murmur.


	4. Seeing Red

Author's Note: Kagome's POV, originally written for the LJ comm ed_ficlets's prompt "Ache" (250 word max).

Warning: Noncon.

Seeing Red

My heart is beating so fast it feels like it might leap out of my throat. I was asleep then suddenly awake. I'm sweating all over and shaking, and all I can see are those glowing red eyes, boring into mine. A hand covers my mouth, hard, barely leaves room to breathe through my nose. I am dizzy, terrified, lost.

Sharp claws are reaching, filling, scraping…inside me. _He_ is inside me, and it's not what it should be. It's not the exciting, frightening dream of giving myself, of belonging to the man I love.

This is not my Inuyasha. This is a demon, dangerous and feral. My hand scratches futilely in the dirt, reaching for an arrow that is nowhere near. Would I get it, kill him if I could? My hand drops as he increases the pace of his thrusting and his mouth stretches into a terrible, fanged smile. I moan against my will and my head spins with unfamiliar sensation. It hurts so, and yet…. "Inuyasha," I mumble against his hand.

Please let this be a nightmare.

If this is real, then my blood is truly spilling onto the ground, and my soul truly belongs to a demon.


	5. Red Claim

Warnings: Dubious consent; sex during menstruation. ADULTS ONLY.

Author's Note: Originally written for LJ Comm Ed_ficlets; placed third.

Red Claim

The golden-eyed self is small, cowering inside now. He wants this, as much as I do, but he has always been afraid of it, afraid to take. I am not afraid. I take. The bitch's mouth is moist against my sweaty palm. I don't dare remove it yet, lest she wake the others out of some misguided sense of fear or loyalty to the coward hanyou. I am he and so much more than he, I want to tell her. But I keep my silence.

Her eyes are heavy-lidded now, pooling with desire, though she might deny it to herself. I feel a spark of pleasure that she is brave enough to keep from shutting them. My cock, doglike, throbs for release.

As my fingers play inside her tender red core, she softens, and I find I enjoy her arousal. Come, bitch, give yourself to me. How is it she lures me from the thrill of conquest to this appeal? I feel my weaker self press forward. I snarl. No, this is still my game; she is my bitch.

I slip my fingers from her, though my knees still pin her thighs wide. I lick and suckle them while she watches, a babe with the mother's milk it never tasted. Terrible, motherless youkai. The sight is too much for her and her eyes flicker closed. The hanyou retreats again.

Reaching into my hakama, I grasp my treasure. So hard, its head as angry-red as my eyes. "You want this," I growl, a command that gets her to open those eyes again. Panting, I poise myself over her, at last claiming her mouth with mine. She tastes of adrenalin, of fire. I thrust inside, tongue and cock, filling her as she is made to be filled. She screams into my mouth, and I devour it all.

I fuck her, and our blood selves meet as they are meant to, in heat and need. She is mine.


	6. Red Spell

Author's Note: The hanyou awakens...

Red Spell

I wake to darkness and the smell of blood. My heart races and instinct propels me to rise and unsheathe my sword. I pivot, shift, search. I don't know where I am or how I got here. I see no enemy, smell no foe. Kagome's naked, crumpled form lies before me, and I cannot breathe. I sink to my knees and take her into my arms. She is warm, alive, but unconscious; and there is so much blood.

Why is Kagome's blood beneath my claws?

I try to concentrate, to focus. Her blood is on my robes as well as my hands, so I have obviously carried her here. She has been attacked, but most of the red is the blood of her cycle. Its scent, though, is complex. I am unable to look away, though I've never truly looked there before. I feel a twinge of loathing...and arousal.

None of this makes sense, and I am falling under a spell of blood.

I feel the pressure behind my eyes that tells me the youkai within me is nearing the surface. I lean in and smell my own seed between her legs. I cough, a single bark of forced laughter that does not belong to me. The need threatens to take me under, and it is then that the truth bursts, explodes inside me.

I have done this. I am the danger.

My pulse races and I growl with effort, forcing down the self that has taken without thought, claimed without care. I lay Kagome back down and instinctively begin to lick the scratches on her belly and breasts with long passes of my tongue. I must soothe her, if I can, where I—that other I—have harmed. My nose takes me lower, where I lap at her core. I taste the blood and the wrongness of my seed here and strive to clean it, to will it away. I snarl at the self I cannot reach except in the aftermath of its violence. I am desperate, and she does not waken.

O Kagome, in this blood-red moment, you are my victim and my captor, more mine than you have ever been. Whether you ever forgive me or not, I am not strong enough to wish it otherwise.


	7. Red Witness

Red Witness

Sesshoumaru knew the meaning of stillness, embodied it with haughty grandeur that few others could master. Observant yet aloof, passing judgment without speaking a word, the Lord of the Western Lands had long had his own opinion of his bastard brother's existence, and shared it with extended blade.

Of the hanyou's recent disgrace? Sesshoumaru posed, alone upon a rocky ledge, and watched. Unmoving and unmoved, he had long predicted that his half-sibling's inferior blood would tell. Blood always told. This rabid red-eyed beast mounting its mortal companion-turned-prey was not his Lord Father claiming his Lady Mother in alpha perfection. Nor was it even that same sire mounting the human bitch Izayoi for his indulgent pleasure. Young though he was, Sesshoumaru had observed that mating. While it disgusted him, there was yet grace in the fragile woman's humility before the godlike magnificence of his daiyoukai father. There was true power in how he then took her. And, Sesshoumaru grudgingly acknowledged to himself and no other, there was nobility in the recognition of the offspring brat as his own.

But this? A savage assault by a demon-child upon the female he protected and prized above all others—even if he would deny his affection? There was neither honor nor control in the act. And, for her part, though the girl might not deserve such an attack, her naïve persistence and overwrought empathy had made this inevitable.

Of course, none of this was his concern. He observed because it brought him power, not malice. It was for no one but himself to decide whether or not to remain, even now, as the youkai energy faded from Inuyasha's eyes and the hanyou ascended once again, taking the broken bitch into his arms with tears in his half-breed eyes. No, Sesshoumaru would not look away.


	8. Red Flight

Author's Note: Written for LJ Comm ed_ficlets' "Precious" prompt. I just had to go dark and continue this series. Received 2nd place.

Red Flight

Miroku is awake; the others sleep. I'm grateful for both. The monk rises, eyes dark, and takes her unconscious form from my arms. He smells of surprise, but mostly concern. I must look as wrecked as I feel, for all he says is "She'll forgive you." What makes him so sure, I wonder. I doubt I'll forgive myself.

There's little time for self-pity, even if I had the inclination, because the red presses and pools behind my eyes, and if I'm going to lose control again, I need it to be far, far away from Kagome, from all of them. Miroku will protect them from me, if necessary, but it's only Kagome who is truly in danger…who is truly mine.

I run, putting as much distance between us as possible, and the faster and farther I go, the stronger I feel. I'm no fool: I know I'm running from myself. I know I'm running from having hurt her more than I thought possible, more than anyone else probably ever could. And I'm running from the possibility, most frightening of all, that she belongs to the red beast and not to me.

They'll hold her, cleanse her, heal her. I have to believe that, and that she is still herself inside, still whole. No part of me could do what they can for her, not now that I've broken that precious, slender thread of trust between us, that lie that said I would never hurt her. It's unreasonable to want to say it wasn't me. Ridiculous to say I didn't mean to. Terrifying to say my heart races, even now, as I remember how good it felt to claim her.

I run, wind in my hair, pulse pounding in my ears, vision blurring not with tears but with blood. There is nowhere I can go that will free me from who I am and from what we—my Kagome and the demon inside me—are, together.


	9. Red Advantage

Author's Note: Another youkaiInu tidbit, prompted by LJ comm **ed_ficlet**'s "manipulation" prompt.

Red Advantage

Just short of ascendancy, I bask in your struggle. I relish the speed, the lithe movement of our body, in the illusion of freedom you find by running, leaping blindly, boulder to boulder, through lush forests whose branches whip and sting our flesh so brightly. The natural world readily fulfills your need for self-flagellation, and you are a child, taking your punishment like the good little pup you wish you were.

We became one and claimed the bitch, the Kagome bitch, and nothing can change that now. How long did we bask, hanyou, licking our bloodied claws, before we took her unconscious form back to camp where others more suited to nurturance could care for her? No matter how fast you run, such questions cannot be obliterated. No matter how loud the wind, you will hear me, hear the red blood pounding in your ears.

Shattered now is any sense that good behavior could purify you of the hanyou stain, the mixed-breed bastard taint. A half-life comes with a price, dog, and I am that price.

It is easy enough to see in retrospect. Your strength has always come from me, through me. The power to protect is equally the power to destroy, a fact you so easily ignored, denied, in favor of the delusion of heroism. Every battle you have won has been my battle; every decisive action came from my determined will.

You are hesitation and doubt, borne of illegitimacy and foolhardiness. You bear your mother's frailty. I am youkai, my father's son, worthy of his name and the right to claim whatever my claws can reach.

Run as long and as far as you wish, child of folly. You can no longer deny my dominance. You are the golden one in name only. My time has come.


	10. Reek No More of Love

Author's Note: Finally continuing this fic with the assistance of the "Cold" prompt at LJ Comm **Iyhedonism**.

Reek No More of Love

The sound of your voice begging: if it lingers in my ears it's only because I let it.

The golden-eyed one inside me is buried now. Not dead, but plunged deep and unable to rise. I like him there, cold and still inside me, helping me feel how warm and alive I am. I live because he is submerged. Each heartbeat strengthens me, and the more I feel your resentful, longing gaze upon me, the more I swell with power.

You want him back so badly, your tamed hanyou, and I can only scoff. Why, foolish and shortlived girl? You have always rejected me, used whatever means necessary to keep me submerged and give the lesser spirit ascendance. Your pitiful protector: strong but not strong enough to threaten you, not from the day you removed the arrow from our chest. When you removed the first miko's spell, you cast your own.

Rejected too is the weakest within us, the black-haired one whose nose would not even know you in the darkness. The dull-eyed one, he is unworthy of this thing you call love, though you are gracious enough to give him your pity. He prefers hiding within, deep within, lest he be revealed. And now that I have ascended, breathed the air of the living for a full moon's time, I grow increasingly confident I can keep him safe, and the golden-eyed fool imprisoned. It all sits so well with me.

Not so you, pretty miko, cowering in the cave where I now must keep you bound so you do not summon your friends once again. Oh, your well-meaning comrades who only wish the best for me. No, not me. Him. The pretty puppy who can be subjugated, tamed to your will and your whore's cunt. Your so-called love.

Shall we tally that love, Kagome? Shall we truly assess its worth? Not with word but with deed. With fang and claw, with spit and blood and seed.

I feel each time I reclaim you that you deceive yourself as well as me. Do not continue to convince yourself that the strongest is too strong for you. As I thrust into and pry you open anew, I feel you yield to my crimson heat. I feel you respond when I devour you with my need, taste your life's essence, and bring you a bright, sharp moment of unwilling ecstasy. Come to me, Kagome, come. And reek no more of love.


	11. Red Heart

Author's Note: Written for LJ Comm **FirstTweak**'s "Yes" prompt.

Red Heart

Speech comes only with difficulty, so I generally do without it. Snarls come more naturally and get my point across well enough, especially with the bitch. Claws and fangs speak clearly, too. Even the show of them is enough to make her shiver and mewl. She is afraid, yet I smell her curiosity growing, the longer I possess her. Now and then, her tears still fall, and I watch them with fascination, touch and taste them at whim. Her eyes remain wide and fixed upon me, always. Yet, if my quiet bitch still awaits the hanyou's return, she no longer expresses it. The golden-eyed fool within scarcely touches me now. My crimson gaze holds him down deep and will prove enduring. I feel it.

Of course, I allow her rest, food, and keep her well sheltered. We live distant, where the others will not find us. Those she calls "friends" only wish to banish me again. But slowly, surely, the same becomes less true for my bitch. Though she begs me to be gentle, she no longer asks for her freedom.

There is no question she knows who owns her now. I have mastered the power of the beads and her fragile emotions as well. And then there is her body, where she cannot lie.

Pinning her hips wide as I hilt myself inside her, I growl, "Come for me," my youkai gaze holding her as surely as my claws.

She whines, high and long, pitching over the edge and clutching my cock until I pour forth with a wild howl.

As I lie atop her after, both of us panting, I nuzzle and lick her throat roughly. "Is it good, my pretty bitch?"

"Yes," she whispers, and I know that little of her heart I desire is nearly mine.


	12. Red Bridge

Author's Note: Thanks to LJ Comm FirstTweak's "Bridge" prompt that motivated me back to this irresistibly dark fic.

Red Bridge

Warnings: Dark and nasty non-con scenario, but more introspective than action here.

How many moons now, my bitch? How long is the ebb and flow of moon and tide and blood and the dance we do within ourselves and with each other since I have taken you from the hanyou and from friends more feeble even than he? I keep us moving, red eyes seeking out ever new caves in new mountainsides, snowcapped or flower-dotted. They won't find us, neither companions nor the stilled will of the golden-eyed mongrel within me. My confidence in keeping the others from us is even stronger than my knowledge of your need. For you need me now, Kagome-bitch--not only in my determined possession but because I have remade you, recast life for you. Life is in the world I fashion for you. Life is in the way I claim you. Life is in the way I make you pant with need, dripping with sweat, tears, and the monthly blood that I devour and observe, careful not to plant my seed when it is likely to take root. Life begins and ends with us, bitch. There will be no new little fur-tipped hanyou, no future generation of impure beasts to stain the earth with their existence.

You smell of dependence now, as you never did with my other. Surely you know it. But do not recoil; there is no shame. I have labored hard to break you, bitch. It was perhaps not a fair fight, from your perspective, but a fight it was, and one worth more worth winning than I suspected when I began. You had bow and arrow then, beads that made the hanyou whine and scrape. You had whim and caprice and a foolish quest whose ending left you ready to abandon the weakness known as Inuyasha. And he would have let you go, return to your time. I could not, did not. You know well that there will be no more talk of "home." There will be no escape. Now you have me and only me. I am your world. I am the bridge between you and the precious hanyou who proved unworthy of you. Only as I let you see him reflected in my visage when I close my eyes and you can pretend, for a moment, that you are safe as once you were. A false safety you will, in time, extinguish entirely from your mind. See: I am the path between life and death. Now and until you die, you will walk with me.

Claiming your desire was the easiest step: you always had banked fires within you. I saw the blaze within each time I burst forth, for I, too, am an inferno. I pinned you with crimson gaze and youkai markings I bore proudly. I am your warrior. The golden-eye could not see your thirst for the pleasures of the flesh. Sun-blinded by his pale sight. Oh yes, your body was easily won, not by being tamed or shamed but by being roused. My fuck brought you to life in ways he could never imagine, cannot even fathom now as he cowers, cold within me. Claw and fang, tongue and cock, blood and come: I feed you life, Kagome. And your lips, your cunt, your luscious pale flesh and cries of pleasure as I own you, over and over again, are sweet reward for one who values triumph.

And I do triumph, I gloat, even: he cannot even rage within me now. His voice is dim as I ascend and possess you. He fears the truth that his bitch is mine as she was never his, could never be his. Dreams of courtship, futile human marriage rituals, seeding a new generation of mixed-breed weaklings! How can such stand up to the crimson reality of the luscious animal my Kagome-bitch truly is at her core? A core I plumb with pistoning cock and demanding mouth, rough hands and youkai hunger. Can the hanyou bear the sight of our victory? Watch and learn, shamed one, watch and learn.


	13. Red Winter

A/N: First new entry for this story since April! Hope it pleases. Written for FirstTweak's "Snowbound" prompt with 300-word limit.

Warning: Dubcon! Foul Youkai!Yasha mouth! Don't read if you don't like this kinda thing!

Red Winter

Winter's cold does nothing to chill my need, borne of summer's heat. I bask in the burning hunger to claim and reclaim the Kagome-bitch anew. Snow crunches beneath my bare, tireless feet as I carry her, shivering against the cold so she must cling to me, to my warmth. And I am warm, Kagome-bitch, I am fire against the ice. I grin as she wraps her arms around my shoulders and we run through the storm for cover. She shudders as I dig my claws into the skin of her hip, scrape her tender flesh to hear her whimper. I remind her, without words, that her existence depends upon me, not him. The hanyou, the golden-eyed weakling: I cannot be sure she no longer desires him deep inside, longs for that tame existence, though she no longer names him, even in her sleep. I keep him from her as I keep her from the others. I am not Inuyasha. I am unnamed and unnamable, that which claims what it wishes without regret.

The wind at last lets up, and now the snow falls thick and wet through the darkening sky. The world is a blanket of silver, frigid and barren, but it cannot dampen my spirits. As I run on, I reach back between her thighs with a possessive hand and she moans softly. How I have come to relish the sound! I lick my sweet, sticky fingers as at last I see a cave ahead. I claim the cleft in the mountainside for ours. We will no doubt be snowbound within. This pleases me well and she knows it. I lay her on the cold ground then cover her. I will keep my bitch warm and safe for my use, here where even the heavens can bear no witness.


End file.
